


kissing death and losing my breath

by bringeverything



Series: November Ficlet Challenge 2013 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, M/M, Minor Character Death, yes i am aware that i am fond of some very weird and screwed up stuff but hey it's supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringeverything/pseuds/bringeverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Sam goes darkside to save Dean from Hell, the boys are a bit less-than-human and kill anything that doesn’t like them. People included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kissing death and losing my breath

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 of my ficlet challenge which was completely self-indulgent because I am wayyyy too fond of dark!Winchesters. Fair warning, this is quite fucked up. Title is from Bones by MS MR

He’s intoxicating like this. Dean doesn’t think his brother has ever been more beautiful than when he’s got that glint in his eye, blood smeared on his cheekbone from where he’s absentmindedly wiped his face, strong fingers wrapped around the throat of his latest victim and pushing down, hard. All of Sam’s strength is going into pinning him down, biceps bulging, long powerful legs straddling the guy’s tiny hips. God he’s gorgeous.

Tonight’s guy had the nerve to hit on Dean at the tiny dive bar that was all this town had to offer. Big mistake. Sammy’s possessive streak is a mile wide, zero tolerance for that kind of shit. Dean’s his, and only his, and he couldn’t be happier about it. No one will ever come close.

Sam’s considering letting this guy go, the terror in his eyes is almost enough, knowing this guy will be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his pathetic little life. But, as always, the rapid pounding of the guy’s heart under his hands is driving him insane, feels so panicked and sounds so loud. He just wants to cut it off, for good. There’s so much power in being able to feel the life drain out of someone, hear them gasp out their last breaths against your skin. Nothing else like it. That’s why Sam likes to do it like this, up close and personal, with his hands on the person. 

Sam lets the guy go and he chokes out a few pathetic breaths, the bruises on his neck the most gorgeous shade of purple. Sam chuckles a bit, likes how they’re a perfect imprint of his hands. He grabs his knife from the inside of his jacket and tips the guy’s head back forcefully, starts slowly tracing around the bruises with the tip of the blade, pressing just hard enough to let the blood trickle out. The guy’s whimpers only make it better.

However Dean finds it annoying and kicks the guy in the side, making him cough and jerk against Sam’s knife, cutting him deeper. The grin that Sam sends up to Dean is blinding. So so beautiful.

“Ready to get this over with?” Dean asks Sam, his voice soft as he tangles his fingers in Sam’s hair. Sam leans into the touch like a kitten, practically purring with the attention.  
“Definitely. He’s wasted too much of our time already. And I’m sick of him looking at you.”

Dean pulls away, steps back to watch Sam do what he does best. Sam rests the tip of the knife against the bottom of the guy’s chin to keep his head tilted up, looking directly in his eyes. He’s scared shitless and it makes Sam feel so fucking alive. He covers the guy’s mouth with one huge bloody palm.

“You deserve this. Scumbags like you deserve everything they get.” Sam’s voice is clear and calm, but he’s unable to hide his eagerness.

He moves swiftly, stabbing him first in the chest, then plunging the knife deep in his neck. His screams are thankfully muffled by Sam’s hand, god knows they’ve heard enough out of him tonight. The blood pools beautifully in the hollow of his throat, running down from the gaping wound to paint his skin, before decorating the concrete too. He’s much prettier now.

Sam sits back, resting on the guys thighs, gazing admiringly at his now-lifeless body. The hand in his hair returns.

“Nice work Sammy. ‘m proud of you.”

Sam reaches up and Dean pulls him to his feet, twines his bloody fingers with Dean’s clean ones. They leave pretty quickly, desperate to be alone. The guy’s not worth the time to get rid of the body properly.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://hotwhiskeyes.tumblr.com/post/66177415095/day-6-of-my-november-ficlet-challenge-is-a-very):


End file.
